Chapter 525: Drawing the Circle

As far as Diwu Lun was concerned, Liu Xin had nothing to reproach himself for — just as Diwu Lun had declared when he raised his troops, "What has the House of Han ever added to me?" He still owed a sovereign-subject bond to the Xin Dynasty; with the Han, if one had to reckon, there was only a family feud.

Besides, it was Liu Xin who had first proposed to Diwu Lun that they rise against the Xin, only for the men he recruited to turn out to be pig-headed teammates who botched the plot. Afterward, Liu Xin fled west to prop up the child Ying as emperor, but that rump "Western Han" holed up in Liang Province — even if Diwu Lun had not destroyed it — would sooner or later have fallen to Gongsun Shu in Western Shu. He truly could not bring himself to hate Diwu Lun.

And what Diwu Lun said today struck Liu Xin's heart like a heavy hammer.

"These past few days, has the esteemed Liu read through all the essays on why the Han's virtue is exhausted?"

Liu Xin had read them several times over, but expecting a great scholar of his stature to endorse essays by callow youths — was that not absurd? He merely shook his head. "Most are shallow in insight, not worth a glance. The literary men of this age truly grow worse with each generation, far inferior to this old man, to Yang Ziyun, to Zhang Songbo. That the Wei Emperor would make such men the top-ranked laureates — could it be that there is no one left worth using?"

Diwu Lun laughed aloud at this. "The esteemed Liu speaks truly — in literary grace, they are indeed far beneath the previous generation."

But at once his face grew stern. "Yet who reduced the realm to such calamity, if not you 'senior literary men'? Zhang Song's prose was outstanding, yet he knew only how to flatter the sovereign's whims. My own teacher, for all his lofty aspirations, could not save the world with his essays. As for the esteemed Liu, you too once held great power — did that bring any benefit to the realm?"

"Literary grace matters, but what matters more is that these men distill the lessons of the Han's destruction. However rough the phrasing, so long as the reasoning is sound, it is a fine political treatise."

Diwu Lun continued, "They had to compose their essays in a single shichen — naturally they were rushed. Moreover, at the time, whether the Xin Dynasty was a rightful abdication or a usurpation had yet to be settled, so many things could not be stated plainly in the essays. Today, I shall add a few points of my own."

"When that King of Wu who shares your name, Liu Xiu, as well as Liu Xuan, Liu Yong, and even men like Wei Ao raised their troops, they all put forward one argument."

Diwu Lun paced over to Wang Mang, who was leafing through the essays, and said, "That the realm fell to such a state entirely because of the Han dynasty's collapse — that had the Han not perished, things would never have come to this. Old Wang, what do you make of that?"

Wang Mang ignored him. Diwu Lun merely smiled. "But I hold that it is precisely because of the Han dynasty's two centuries of accumulated rot that today's great calamity came about!"

"Land and slaves — both were chronic maladies of the Han era, left untreated for generations, like stubborn diseases. In Emperor Wu's time, the illness was on the skin; under Zhao and Xuan, it reached the tissues — apply some medicine and it improved a little. But by the reigns of Yuan and Cheng, it flared up anew, this time in the stomach and bowels. By the time of Ai and Ping, the disease had penetrated the marrow; the common people suffered seven deaths out of seven perils. Even if they had struggled on, relying on the child Ying and the so-called great Confucians and renowned ministers at court — could they have saved it?"

Liu Xin fell silent. Of course not. He had lived through that era and knew deeply how rotten the House of Han had become. Had he, Liu Xin, not despaired of the Han, how could he have half-reluctantly followed Wang Mang, plotting to let his ancestral state die a natural death?

Diwu Lun spoke again. "Has Old Wang not been reflecting lately that he took a wrong turn at the start, that he should not have harbored selfish motives and replaced the Han emperor? Let us pose a hypothesis: if you had remained the Duke Who Pacifies the Han to the end, what then? In my view, the Way of Heaven follows its own constancy — it does not flourish for a Yao, nor perish for a Jie. The Yellow River would still have burst its banks; the Jing River would still have shifted its course. Where the realm was due for drought, drought still came. Only then, the Greenwood and Red Eyebrow armies would not have risen against the Xin — they would have risen directly against the House of Han, just as they did in the last years of Emperor Wu!"

Liu Xin retorted, "Then how do you explain the common people everywhere longing for the Han?"

Diwu Lun said, "This so-called 'hearts longing for the Han' is nothing but the deathbed rally of someone long dead. Have you not seen? In some commanderies and counties of the Central Plains, when the Greenwood Han army arrived, the people welcomed them with vessels of drink. Yet they soon discovered that the Greenwood men were mostly bandits, plundering by nature — and so their hearts longed for Wang Mang. Then when the Red Eyebrows came and proved even more unbearable, they began to long for the Greenwood again. To take this as proof of the people's will — is that not laughable?"

"I have long told my ministers: what the people's hearts long for is not the House of Han, but the peace of former days. The esteemed Liu has traveled through Guanzhong and Luoyang — go out into the streets and ask: under our dynasty's rule, are there still commoners whose hearts yearn for the Han's restoration?"

By the end of this speech, Liu Xin was speechless. The tide of Han restoration had receded; even Gongsun Shu had sold him and the child Ying out. The facts could not be denied. In Chang'an and Luoyang, even the most diehard restorationists, having witnessed one "Han" after another perish, now regarded even the last hope, the King of Wu, Liu Xiu, with pessimism.

Diwu Lun said, "Thus, the Xin Dynasty's replacement of the House of Han was in accord with the times. That is why all under Heaven craned their necks in hope, longing only for a new beginning."

At this, Wang Mang raised his head and sneered. "Little brat — you've finally spoken a human word."

"Don't be too quick to feel gratified, Old Wang." Having finished scolding Liu Xin, Diwu Lun now scolded Wang Mang. "The Xin's error lay not in replacing the House of Han, but in what it did after taking power."

"Annexation, slavery — Old Wang, you indeed spotted the root of the disease at a glance. But the medicine you prescribed..."

Diwu Lun shook his head and sighed. "It is truly beyond words. A few harsh doses, and you finished off a realm that might still have been saved by medicine!"

So saying, Diwu Lun sat down right there in the hall. At his clap, several officials carried in a large basket of bamboo slips and scrolls. Entering with them was the Wei State's Privy Treasurer — that man of handsome features but perpetually stern face, Song Hong.

This handsome man cupped his hands toward Liu Xin, but toward Wang Mang he made a deep bow — after all, he too had been a high minister of the Xin, guarding Wang Mang's treasury to the very last moment.

"One of those doses was called the 'Five Equilibrations and Six Monopolies' — jointly prescribed by Old Wang and the esteemed Liu. This medicine was no small thing: it made a realm already at its last gasp vomit from above and purge from below, nearly snuffing out its breath. How fitting that both of you are here today, and that Treasurer Song is well versed in the matter — let us examine it together!"

Good heavens — Wang Mang had thought Diwu Lun had turned over a new leaf today, but after all that circling around, he still meant to put him on trial like a criminal!

Wang Mang could speak his heart only before Fan Chong; now he turned his head away, wholly uncooperative.

Old Liu Xin, however, after coughing a few times, sighed and began to recount the original intent behind the "Five Equilibrations and Six Monopolies" policy.

"These Five Equilibrations and Six Monopolies were in truth one link in the restoration of antiquity and reform of institutions."

Diwu Lun said, "The esteemed Liu was among its originators — how did you conceive of it?"

"It was not conceived."

Liu Xin lowered his head, a bitter smile on his face. "It was found — in ancient texts!"

Liu Xin would never forget the feeling, when collating texts in the palace, of discovering that copy of the Zhou Yi Li on a dust-laden bookshelf — the joy of finding a priceless treasure.

Yi means "scattered and lost." This book differed from the standard Zhou Li; it was a lost version transmitted from the Warring States period, presented to Emperor Wu of Han by the Prince Xian of Hejian and stored in the imperial archive, unseen by the scholars of the five traditions. Because it was written in Warring States script, it also belonged to the Old Text classics.

Liu Xin was already the standard-bearer of the Old Text school at the time. Young as he was, he had directly opened fire on the old New Text Erudites who dominated academia. But relying solely on the texts hidden in Confucius's wall and the Zuo Commentary sufficed for scriptural debate, yet proved quite inadequate for institutional reform. It was only when he rediscovered this book — whose contents recorded in detail the governance particulars of the Zhou era — that the Old Text school's strength in textual research could be complemented, remedying its weakness in practical application.

"Wang Jujun came up through the study of the ritual classics. When I shared this book with him, he too was greatly enamored. Once he took power, his temperament being impatient and restless, incapable of quiet non-action, every time he undertook some new project, he insisted I search this book for a basis, so as to use antiquity to sanction reform and force-fit the classics."

Liu Xin said, "For instance, his receiving the Nine Bestowals as Duke Who Pacifies the Han was based on ancient texts; so too his construction of the Bright Hall, his changes to the sacrifices, and his establishment of offices. By the second year of Shijianguo, he again modeled the Five Equilibration Offices on the Zhou Li."

At this, Wang Mang could bear it no longer. He slammed the table. "Liu Zijun! The Five Equilibrations were clearly first proposed by you — you said that the Zhou had the Quanfu office of Five Equilibrations, which purchased unsold goods from the markets. This, you said, was what the Zhou Yi meant by 'ordering wealth and rectifying terms, forbidding the people from wrongful use,' in perfect accord with the sages' intent. Only then did I issue the edict, opening credit and loans, instituting the Five Equilibrations!"

Seeing the two about to launch into another endless quarrel, Diwu Lun merely smiled. "The ancients had a tale of cutting off the feet to fit the shoes. When I first heard it, I did not believe it — until I met you two, taking fragmentary phrases from ancient texts of uncertain authenticity from a thousand years ago and applying them to the great enterprise of state and people's livelihood. This too is cutting flesh and feet to fit old shoes."

Diwu Lun looked at Liu Xin. "The esteemed Liu truly had the gall to propose it."

Then he looked at Wang Mang. "And Old Wang truly had the gall to adopt it!"

These two, though forever pointing fingers at each other, were — if Diwu Lun had to say — indeed the elite of their age, vastly learned and fiercely eloquent. Pity they did their scholarship with their heads and set state policy with their feet. Truly a Crouching Dragon and a Fledgling Phoenix — together they could throw the realm into chaos, the very model of public intellectuals running a state.

Wang Mang said stubbornly, "Do you think I did not know? But setting aside the words of the ancients, the policy did have merit. The reason for adopting it was to equalize the common people and suppress annexation!"

"Dare I ask Old Wang: after the Five Equilibrations and Six Monopolies were promulgated, were the common people ever equalized? Was annexation ever suppressed?" Song Hong spoke up. As an official who managed the economy, he was perhaps the most qualified to say this, and he took the chance to pour out all the remonstrances he had repeatedly made during the Xin Dynasty, which Wang Mang had stubbornly refused to heed.

"These so-called Five Equilibrations and Six Monopolies, though named a restoration of antiquity, were in truth modeled on Sang Hongyang's policies under Emperor Wu of Han. The Five Equilibrations were meant to stabilize commodity prices, so that the great merchants of Chang'an, Luoyang, and other cities could no longer profit from credit and loans, ruining small traders and common households."

The original intent was not bad — controlling capital, one might say. It was said that under the Xin Dynasty, the great merchants of Luoyang and other places not only monopolized logistics like carting and shipping, but even stretched their hands into small trades like sauce-making. They were even more avid in running all manner of usury; with compound interest, they seized who knew how much land and property, even reducing entire debtor families to slavery.

Thus Wang Mang wanted the government to lend directly to small townsfolk. But where would the government get so much money? Simple — taxation!

Song Hong said, "Old Wang consulted the ancient texts of the Zhou Li. Any field left unplowed was deemed uncultivated, and taxed three men's worth; any house in the city walls without planted trees was deemed barren, and taxed three men's worth of cloth; any person drifting idly without occupation paid one bolt of cloth... As a result, taxation within the cities grew exceedingly onerous. Raising livestock, even women's sericulture, spinning, weaving, mending, artisans, peddlers, all the way to doctors, shamans, diviners, and invocators — all were taxed. Even city-dwellers engaged in no production had to pay taxes. Local officials then invented pretexts to squeeze the people for taxes."

But what if the small peddlers had no money? Borrow from the government! Yet the administrative efficiency of the Xin government defied description. Taxes could not go unpaid, but to get a loan approved, one had to queue for decades. Thus, driven to desperation, the townsfolk could still only borrow from the quick-money usurers among the rich merchants.

In this way, a perfect closed loop was formed. The Five Equilibration credit and loans not only failed to lighten the people's burdens, but became the usurers' accomplice. Truly farcical.

Worse still, the Five Equilibration officers directly handed the money Wang Mang had allocated to the usurers of Luoyang and other places. After the money made a round, a bit more interest would come back each year. The officials would then use this as evidence, seize a few debt-evading commoners on the grounds of overdue official loans, forcibly sentence them to penal labor to fill the shortfall, and in the end fatten themselves.

As for the price-stabilizing function Wang Mang had hoped for — that too was a complete mess.

Song Hong pointed to the thick stack of Luoyang residents' indignant testimonies about the Five Equilibrations policy and said, "The Five Equilibration officers and the wealthy households colluded like wolves and jackals, keeping multiple false account books, the treasury holdings false, manipulating prices, fleecing the people. The market officers meant to stabilize prices bought cheap and sold dear, even forcibly seizing people's goods at low prices."

As for the abuses of the Six Monopolies, they went without saying. Wang Mang's original intent was to strike at the powerful families who controlled the mountains, forests, and marshes. But they had plenty of ways to shift the burden, and the weight fell upon the woodcutters, fishermen, and hunters — driving the fishermen of the south to produce a Greenwood Army, and forcing the woodcutter Fan Chong of the east up Mount Tai.

Song Hong was thoroughly venting today, pouring out years of pent-up fury in one breath. Wang Mang, for his part, wilted. It was only among the Red Eyebrow soldiers, hearing them recount how the Five Equilibrations and Six Monopolies had left them no choice but to rebel, that he understood how recklessly those policies he had once thought so brilliant had been implemented.

Song Hong had scolded enough. Realizing he had lost his composure, he merely bowed to Diwu Lun in apology.

Diwu Lun waved his hand. "The Five Equilibrations policy was mainly applied in the five markets of Chang'an, Handan, Wancheng, Luoyang, and Linzi. Let the people of Luoyang, on behalf of those five cities, publicly adjudge Old Wang's faults. Duke Dou has already summoned the wards to cast their tiles — I expect we shall have a result within a few days."

"Of those hundred thousand Luoyang residents, many were peddlers and hawkers who endured every hardship back then. How many of them can forgive the suffering they once went through?"

Wang Mang remained silent. Seeing that both old men were quite weary, Diwu Lun decided to call it a day.

As Wang Mang was leaving, after a slight hesitation, he looked back at Liu Xin.

Liu Xin, however, turned his head away, paying him no heed, and offered no farewell. Only when Wang Mang's retreating figure had left the hall did he cast one deep, long look.

That look might well be a final farewell, but until death, they could never mend their relationship — like a torn cattail mat that can never be stitched back together.

Once everyone had gone, Liu Xin rose to his feet and bowed to Diwu Lun.

"Since this old man was Wang Jujun's accomplice and co-conspirator, guilty before all under heaven, how then does the Wei Emperor intend to deal with me? Will you have me executed as a traitor to the realm as well?"

With genuine emotion, Liu Xin said, "I have but one wish: to die as a subject of Han! Only then will I have the face to meet my father and ancestors below in the Yellow Springs."

Diwu Lun, however, shook his head. Pointing at Liu Xin, his words were full of sighs — he truly did not know what to say to this old man with whom he was so deeply entangled.

"Lord Liu, ah, Lord Liu."

"No wonder my late teacher Ziyun once said that you were brilliant your whole life, yet also muddled your whole life — living with even less clarity than Wang Mang."

"As a scion of the Liu imperial clan, you could not stay loyal to Han and threw in your lot with Wang Mang to found the Xin. In your heart, you must surely feel shame. Yet back then, I rather admired you for it. Had you truly been able to transcend the limits of one clan and one surname, and for the Dao and righteousness in your heart, for the sake of restoring the rule of the Three Dynasties, resolutely overturned your own ancestral altars, you would have counted as a hero."

"But who would have thought that after such a long detour, you would end up back on the path of restoring the Han?"

Diwu Lun said, "Do you still remember the circle we drew back in Shangguan Lane in Chang'an?"

Liu Xin nodded — of course he remembered. Diwu Lun had told him the value of pi, a thing Liu Xin had racked his brains over in vain. He had toiled at calculations for so many years, only to be outdone by a youth's offhand remark? But later, when Liu Xin carefully worked through the calculations, after several more years of the method of exhaustion, he discovered that the more he cut, the closer he drew to Diwu Lun's number — and a deep, creeping dread set in.

On this return to Chang'an, Liu Xin grew even more certain that Diwu Lun was a mathematical prodigy whose talents had been sidetracked by rebellion and the struggle for the realm. For instance, he used symbols like 1, 2, 3, and 4 to represent numbers and tinkered with formulas that made the Nine Chapters on the Mathematical Art simpler and more precise.

What astonished Liu Xin even more was that Diwu Lun had actually created an entirely new number.

"0."

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The Han people understood fractions and had the concept of negative numbers, but they simply had no zero. Diwu Lun filled in this missing piece of the puzzle, using 0 to signify emptiness and nothingness, which made Liu Xin click his tongue in wonder.

And at this very moment, Diwu Lun took up a brush, dipped it in ink, and set it down heavily on a sheet of paper, all the while not pausing in his speech.

"My teacher Ziyun, Old Wang, and Lord Liu — all of you are great Confucian scholars, and all of you share a dream of becoming sages."

"Wang Jujun's path is like an arrow loosed from the bowstring — there is no turning back. Even when the road is wrong, he charges ahead at full speed, never looking back. Even if it means throwing in his lot with the Red Eyebrows, he will see his reforms through to the end. That, I suppose, is what they mean by 'though he died nine deaths, he would not repent.'"

From Diwu Lun's words, it was truly impossible to tell whether this was praise or mockery.

"And Lord Liu? Lord Liu's learning is vast, and his mind is full of calculations. As my late teacher Ziyun put it, Liu Zijun always wants his life to be perfectly round — cautious and meticulous, never overflowing, never lacking."

"Thus, day and night, you exhaust yourself cutting the circle to find pi. On the surface, you seek a number, but in truth, you are seeking your own path."

This was indeed the bedrock of everything Liu Xin had done, and now Diwu Lun had laid it bare in a single sentence. Yes — his whole life had been nothing more than an attempt to draw a perfect circle.

"After feeling that you followed the wrong man and did the wrong things for most of your life, Lord Liu decided to turn in the opposite direction. As long as you support the Infant Ying and restore the House of Han, you'll have returned to the starting point and drawn a perfect circle — is that it?"

Diwu Lun stopped the motion of his hand and passed the paper to Liu Xin.

This is…

A circle?

Liu Xin's smile froze. No — the ring on this paper, the way Diwu Lun had drawn it, was somewhat elongated and slender. It did not look like a circle.

Liu Xin's hand began to tremble, and Diwu Lun's next words utterly demolished the self-consolation the old man had clung to all along.

"But in my view, Lord Liu has taken an enormous detour, repudiating his former resolve to sacrifice the Han for the sake of reform and saving the world. Little did he know that he has once again found the wrong center for his circle and is still walking a mistaken path."

This was the judgment Diwu Lun pronounced upon Liu Xin.

"Lord Liu, your whole life, you have spun and struggled around restoring antiquity, Wang Mang, power, and restoring the Han. Over and over, you have drawn countless circles and exhausted the value of pi countless times. But in the end, what you have drawn is not a circle — it is a 'zero.' It is wasted effort. It is a great emptiness!"